


when i watch the world burn, all i think about is you

by panlesters



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Beach Trip, Fluff, M/M, Sunset watching, idk what to really say abt this fic, it's just a simple soft fluffy thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 09:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panlesters/pseuds/panlesters
Summary: Dan thinks the sunset is pretty. Phil thinks he is prettier.





	when i watch the world burn, all i think about is you

**Author's Note:**

> bastille released new lyrics for doom days so it's my responsibility to write this in response   
> (damn it's been a long time since ive written something based on bastille lyrics and i Missed it)   
> anyway this was originally gonna be a zombie apocalypse au but ya girl can't write angst so i wrote this instead lol   
> enjoy!!

It's Dan who decides they need a spontaneous trip to the beach. Before he's even thought about it he's booked them two tickets to Brighton and he's making them their morning coffee. 

"Get up, you lazy oaf," he nudges Phil carefully with his foot as he places a mug down on his bedside table. "We're going to the beach today." Phil's not very impressed about being woken up before 10am but he stays quiet and pouts over his coffee while Dan showers. 

By the time he's finished his coffee, Phil feels slightly more functional and begins to pack a rucsac with things he thinks they might need. Dan watches him trying to squash two beach towels into a small space next to a bottle of suncream and a thick book he thinks must be Stephen King. 

"Hurry up, Phil," Dan whines from where he's stood by the front door with only a wallet, keys and a pair of sunglasses. "Spontaneity packs no bags." 

"Has it never occured to you that I'm the polar opposite of spontaneity?" Phil replies as he battles with the zip on his rucsac before throwing it victoriously over his shoulder. He glances for a split second towards their living room, where their small parasol is leaning haphazardly against a lamp from when they needed to drag it in quickly in the middle of a storm. Dan grabs his hand and drags him out of their apartment. 

"Don't even think about taking that thing on the train with us," Dan grumbles, barely letting Phil stop to lock their door before they're in the lift and heading out to meet their taxi.

 

It takes them a long time to find a quiet part of the beach, but they commandeer what they can and set up camp for the morning. Phil covers himself in his factor 50 suncream, and practically has to hold Dan down to make him put some on. 

"The water will protect me, Phil, you really don't need to do this," Dan complains as Phil wipes a hefty amount of suncream across his back and over his shoulders. 

"That's really not how it works, Dan," Phil sighs, deeming Dan safe and setting him free to go and enjoy his sea swimming. He's comfortable settling on his towel with his novel, a tattered old book that has clearly been through the wars. Occasionally he'll flip down his sunglasses to watch Dan out in the water, and more often than not finds himself watching Dan glide through the water. Even at such a distance Phil still finds himself in awe of his boyfriend and the way he can move. 

He's not sure how much time has passed before Dan is suddenly standing over him, dripping cold water on to his legs and rifling through Phil's bag for the spare towel. Once he's got it wrapped around his shoulders he silently crams himself on to Phil's towel and they sit for a few minutes while Dan lets himself air dry. He's restless though, despite his swim, and before long he's standing back up and saying something about going to a chippy for lunch. 

As it turns out, walking along the seafront with a newspaper cone of chips is more trouble than its worth, and Dan and Phil find themselves spending more time defending their lunch from the huge number of seagulls that have accumulated from nowhere than they do actually eating. They find themselves dipping into shops to hide and end up having a short window shopping session, browsing in all the little indie shops they can find before they come across an ice cream bar and Phil insists they buy something so that he can document it on instagram. 

"You don't need to lie about wanting ice cream, Phil, I know you need your sugar fix," Dan says fondly as he licks a lemon ice cream. Phil is still pouring over all the flavours, settling finally on chocolate chip.

 

They end up back on the beach in time to see the sunset. It's still daylight but the sun has begun to drop in the sky and the colours are beginning to change. 

"Y'know, I always wanted to be able to watch the sunset on a beach when I was younger," Dan muses. He's looking wistfully out to sea, before pulling out his phone and looking for directions back to the train station. 

"What are you doing?" Phil asks. 

"Well... shouldn't we be heading back?" Dan frowns, "It's nearly 8." 

Phil shrugs and heads down the steps to the seafront, dropping his rucsac on a rock and pulling out a towel. "You coming or what?" 

Phil can't pretend he's not tired and ready to go home, but the way Dan's face lights up when he realises what is happening is worth way more than an early night. Dan's running down the steps and grabbing Phil by the hand, dragging him as close as he can to the sea without getting caught as the tide comes in. They settle back down on their towel and Phil folds himself into Dan's side. It doesn't last long, though. It doesn't take Phil more than a few minutes to realise that the sunset isn't what he wants to look at right now. 

He sits back on his hands and watches Dan watching the horizon. The colours of the sky are casting silhouettes on Dan's skin in ways he's not sure he's ever seen before. The orange of the sky makes his cheekbones pop, the pinky-purple of the clouds above them give his hair a slightly maroon hue, the shimmers of sunlight that catch on the waves of the sea are reflecting in Dan's eyes. 

There's something incredibly calming about this experience. The sound of the waves is light white noise, and the smell of the saltwater is sending Phil back to his childhood, to endless trips to the beach with his family. He remembers the first time he and Dan went to the beach together, spending half the time building sandcastles and the other half the time shoulder-deep in water splashing each other playfully. Phil got horrifically sunburnt that day, and spent the night lying on his front because his back was bright red and on fire. 

The nostalgia leaves a lump in Phil's throat and he pulls himself out of his daydream to find Dan staring at him thoughtfully. Phil clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair awkwardly. 

"Not watching the sunset?" Dan asks softly. 

"You're prettier," Phil replies, still half out of it. He manages to pull himself together enough, though, to see Dan roll his eyes and shove back on Phil's chest so he loses his balance and falls back. 

"You're disgusting."

 

It's not long before the tide is lapping at their toes and they have to pack up their things and really head back to the train station. The sun has practically set, and soon it will be pitch black. Dan spends a couple more minutes stood at the top of the wall watching the sun drift finally below the line of the sea and allowing himself to be pulled away by Phil, who's intertwined their fingers and is giving gentle tugs on Dan's arm. 

By the time they get back, Phil is ready to fall asleep, and makes a beeline for their bedroom while Dan jumps back in the shower to wash the seawater out of his hair. Phil takes the chance to upload a couple of the photos he'd secretly taken of Dan throughout their day: one of Dan fending his lunch off a hungry seagull, another of his own ice cream, a shop with a pun in its name, and finally one of Dan sat watching the sunset. 

Maybe spontaneity isn't really his style, but Phil could definitely get used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed! come scream about dnp (or bastille) at me on tumblr @ panlesters


End file.
